


Stray

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animals, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-29
Updated: 2010-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sam finds a puppy and decides to keep it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stray

Sam finds it after they take out the two ghostly janitors menacing guests in the Freemont Hotel. It's hiding under the pipes in the boiler room, making sharp, wounded little noises of fright. He thinks it's an actual dog to start with, scared downstairs by the sound of shotguns and shouting.

He goes down on one knee and tries to coax it out with a bit of ham from a sandwich he stole off a room service cart. It comes out slowly, uncertainly, belly on the floor. It's smaller than it looked squashed under the pipes, it can't be more than a few months old. Sam's about to feed it a bit of meat when it flickers - just briefly - in and out of existence.

"Crap."

The puppy reaches his hand and licks it with a cold tongue. For a second Sam doesn’t have the faintest idea what to do with it. He can't exactly leave it here to haunt the basement. It's a ghost, the ghost of a dog, granted, but still a ghost. They destroy ghosts. That's what they do. The puppy's now investigating the ham on the floor, frustrated by its inability to eat it.

Sam reaches out and uncertainly scratches its head. It's cold and soft and it rubs its head excitably against the back of his hand like it hasn't been touched for years.

"God, look at you, how long have you been down here?" He sighs and scoops it up in one hand. It's cold and squirmy in his grip, trying to chew his fingers like he's invented some exciting new game. Sam takes it back up the stairs. But it wriggles its way out of his hand once they reach the top, falling to the floorboards with a thump and then haring off down the corridor with a 'still growing into his legs' sort of stumbling run.

"Hey, damn it, where the hell are you going?"

He finds the puppy, he also finds Dean, pointing the damn shotgun at it.

"Dean?"

The puppy rolls on its back then wriggles back and forth on the floor like it's trying to scratch a particularly hard to reach itch, ears flopping from side to side.

Dean looks constipated over the shotgun. Sam can see it in his face. There's no way.

Absolutely no way.

"Son of a freakin' bitch," Dean declares and lowers the gun.

He glares at Sam.

"His name's Max," Sam decides firmly.

  
~~~~~

  
Max comes back to the motel with them, much to Dean's annoyance. The dog was briefly afraid in the car, flickering in and out and making frightened little yipping noises on Sam's lap. Dean wondering the whole damn time what the hell he thought he was doing.

The fact that no one else at the motel can see him saves them a lot of trouble. But that's not the damn point. There's a dead dog in their motel room, and Dean's still letting it slide. He doesn't even bitch about Sam naming the damn thing. Naming things is dangerous. You name things and you get attached. But, seriously, it's not like Sam's ever had anything in his life. So, yeah, maybe he's letting Sam have the stupid ghost puppy because he feels guilty and Sam's already gone all fucking stupid over the thing.

Maybe he's getting old and touched in the head.

Something tugs on his pant leg.

"Go away," Dean says flatly. He's trying to research here.

Max makes a growling noise like he wants to play, trying to catch the edge of Dean's shirt where it's wavering above his head, mouth opening and closing every time it swings past.

Dean sighs, lowers a hand and swivels the entire stupid creature around, before pushing it pointedly towards where, the last time he looked, Sam was doing dull computer things.

It's not like the damn creature knows how to take a hint though. It just turns back around, makes a pathetic 'ggrr' sort of noise and then rolls over on the carpet.

Dean looks away for five minutes and something's chewing on the lace of his boot.

"Sam, will you come get your dead-ass dog."

Sam doesn't answer, which means he's probably gone out somewhere to get a drink, or give Dean a chance to _bond_ with the dog, or whatever the hell. Like he thinks it's an actual real life, living, breathing animal.

Dean sighs and carefully pushes his chair back.

The stupid dog knows when he's going to be picked up. Because the minute he gets high enough he does his damnedest to lick every single inch of Dean's face that he can reach with his freezing little tongue. Before shoving his nose into Dean's neck and whining in excitable puppy-flavoured joy. He investigates Dean's collar before licking his face again. Ending with an investigative sort of snuffle against his chin.

"He likes you," Sam says from the doorway, as if to indicate that Dean's continued dislike of the dead puppy is stupid, and hurtful.

"Where did you go?" Dean asks, then puts the puppy down, before the damn thing drowns him.

"To get food," Sam lifts the bag he's holding and waves it as evidence. "And I found Cas."

The angel slides in behind Sam like some sort of clever magic trick.

Max immediately falls on his shoes in his over-excited attempt to greet the new person. Castiel looks briefly unsure whether he's being attacked or not.

"He just wants to say hello, Cas," Sam assures him.

"The animal is dead," Castiel says carefully, like he's not sure if they've noticed.

Max barks, a tiny, pathetic sort of noise. As if in protest.

"Just pet the damn dog so Sam will quit whining about it," Dean complains.

Castiel raises an eyebrow, then looks down, to where there are now paws half-way up his shin. Max is shaking his tail so hard his ass is vibrating.

Castiel bends down carefully and Max runs around in tiny circles until he gets his head uncertainly petted. Before immediately falling over with the overwhelming freakin' excitement of it all.

"He does that," Dean offers at Castiel's bewildered look.

Castiel sinks a little lower and lets Max chew on his fingers.

Sam's watching like a concerned parent.

Dean clears his throat.

"You do realise we can't keep every sad little creature with big eyes that we come across?" he says quietly. "We're kind of on a mission here."

"You kept Cas didn't you?" Sam says carefully.

Dean glares at him.

"Dude, not funny."


End file.
